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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104611">Stolen Lark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/pseuds/ancslove'>ancslove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - Victor Hugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Branding, Canon Era, F/M, Face-Fucking, Gang Rape, Hurt No Comfort, Knifeplay, Loss of Virginity, Non-Consensual Touching, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhappy Ending, Vomiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,175</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/pseuds/ancslove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette steals out to meet Marius.  Instead, she finds a much greater danger, as M. Thenardier is determined to regain what was his.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Cosette Fauchelevent/Monsieur Thenardier, Cosette Fauchelevent/Montparnasse, Cosette Fauchelevent/Patron-Minette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Id Pro Quo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stolen Lark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/gifts">plutonianshores</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cosette tiptoed down the hallway, past her papa’s rooms.  Her father was asleep, or meditating, and she stole toward the door. Marius would be here soon.  He had opened her world, shown her wonders she’d never dared to dream.  With him, she felt more alive than she’d ever known.  After a quick, furtive glance around, she crept out the door as silently as she could manage and ran to the edge of the garden.  The moon was dim overhead, the night air crisp and still. Shivering a little, Cosette drew her shawl more closely about her shoulders and waited for her love to appear.</p><p>Impatient for his arrival, Cosette eased open the gate and slipped into the street, craning her head to better catch Marius’ first appearance. </p><p>“Why is such a pretty lady out in the street at this hour?”</p><p>Cosette jumped, one hand rising to her throat, at the question which seemed to emanate from the night sky itself.  As her heart raced, a slim, tall figure detached itself from the shadows. </p><p>“The night is dangerous, my lady.  Let me see you safe.”</p><p>“There is no need,” Cosette stuttered, edging back toward the gate.  “Thank you, monsieur, but I am quite safe.”  And then, in a stroke of inspiration, “My father is returning from a long journey, and will be here shortly.”</p><p>But the figure was undeterred, and before Cosette could run inside, he’d looped his arm through hers, much too firmly.  Cosette froze, no one had taken such liberties with her. </p><p>“Please monsieur, I’ll scream.”</p><p>But before she could, more shadows converged on her.  She was soon surrounded and strong hands clamped down around her arms, her waist, her neck.  When she opened her mouth to scream, a rag was stuffed inside, silencing her.  The strangers moved as one around her, conveying her with them down the streets.  She squirmed and kicked but they took no notice, their hands on her tight as iron shackles.  All she succeeded in doing was dislodging her bonnet, but they paid no heed.  The streets were still and empty.  What had earlier been a boon for her and Marius’ love was now her undoing.</p><p>As she was carried farther and farther from home, Cosette tried to be brave.  Her father always said she was brave.  He would come for her.  He would sense her danger and come for her.  Marius too would be looking for her.  But she could barely breathe around the cloth in her mouth and her heart sounded loud and quick in her ears. </p><p>At last, they stopped. The alleyway was narrow and filthy, and unfamiliar to Cosette from what little she could see around her abductors. One shoved her against the wall, hand around her throat.  He was young and, Cosette thought incongruously, very good-looking.  How could someone so handsome and promising be involved in such a shameful deed?  A knife flashed in front of her face.  The young man leaned in, lips hovering close to her skin, and she could hear him inhale. </p><p>“So you’re the hussy who’s been distressing ‘Ponine.”</p><p>“She’s the hussy who was stolen from me,” sounded another voice.  A new man appeared, older, small and thin in a way that Cosette couldn’t quite place.  “Remember me, little lark?”</p><p>Cosette’s eyes went wide, unbidden memories tugging at the edges of her mind.  She’d been called that before, <em>lark</em>.  It made no sense, it wasn’t anything from her papa or the sisters at the convent, but she’d been called that before.</p><p>The little man smiled. “You should, brat.  I fed you and clothed you and put a roof over your head for five years, you ungrateful dog, until the big man paid up to take you away. But that was just a loan, and sad to say, his lease is up!”</p><p>The inn.  The inn and the loud, big woman with the painful hands, and the little man.  Cosette’s breathing quickened.  She remembered. </p><p>The handsome one traced the knife down her face and throat, until the tip rested at the neckline of her dress. </p><p>“Look at you now, all grown up,” the little man continued.  “Putting on airs as a fine young maiden, when you’re gutter trash just like your whore of a mother.”</p><p>Cosette shook her head. That wasn’t true.  Father said her mother was a saint, a martyr.  She screamed her protest, but the gag muffled her. </p><p>The sound of ripping threads caught her attention.  The knife had knicked the damask bodice, and threatened to go further.  She didn’t dare move, lest the blade decided to plunge into her heart.</p><p>“Years of fine, easy living have served you well, though.  You’ll sing nicely for us, little lark, and soon the name Thenardier will be on the rise once more.”</p><p>Thenardier, a nightmare come to life.  Monsieur and Madame Thenardier, and their daughters Eponine and Azelma.  Cosette didn’t want to remember.  That wasn’t her life.  That wretched creature in rags, beaten and starved, wasn’t her.</p><p>Thenardier tugged the rag from her mouth. She swallowed dryly, trying to voice her pleas, but the knifepoint digging into her skin, just below her collarbone, banished that thought. Cosette could do nothing, not even when Thenardier seized her jaw and forced her mouth to his.  Cosette’s mind screamed what her voice could not.  Marius. Only Marius could kiss her like this, and he only did so once. Inhaling in shock was a mistake. Something thick and wet wormed its way inside her mouth.  The hand on her jaw squeezed, forcing her lips open wider.  His mouth was so different from Marius', probing and demanding in ways that repulsed her.  He wasn't kissing her so much as devouring her.</p><p>At last, he stepped back. She could breathe again, but part of her wished the breath would cease altogether.</p><p>“Let’s get on with it, man!” growled the tall, thin man who’d first accosted her. </p><p>The handsome one smiled. “Always in such a rush.  Very well, let us see what’s hiding here.” With that, he drew the blade down, rending her bodice all the way to the waist sash.  Cosette screamed as she was bared. Hands were upon her, cupping and squeezing her naked breasts.  They touched her where no man should have dared trespass. The wails of her distress echoed through the alley until a huge hand slapped her across the face.  Thenardier licked his lips as he took in the sight, and his visible joy and greed turned Cosette’s stomach.</p><p>Three men pinned her flat against the wall while two more reached for her skirts.  They hiked her skirts and petticoats up, exposing her ankles, then up to her knees, and then finally her thighs and hips.  Cosette didn’t know whether to vomit or simply die on the spot.  Thenardier leered at her. </p><p>“I go first, seeing as I have all these years to make up.  Sing for me, little lark.”</p><p>The others parted and raised her legs, until she was suspended off the ground against the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing ragged and shallow, as she prepared for her fate.  He was neither merciful nor quick as he speared her on his manhood.  Tears sprang to her eyes.  Each slow thrust opened her up further, stretching and splitting her tender core. </p><p>“Please, please it hurts,” Cosette whimpered over and over.  There was no relief, only pain and humiliation.  Dimly, she heard the others speaking and laughing, and felt their calloused hands on her breasts and thighs, rough against her tender, pure skin.  Her cheeks burned from the mortification.  Thenardier grabbed her rear to steady himself, groping her firm flesh as he pulled her further onto him.  Then the thrusts began.  She could feel him moving inside her, forcing his way in and then withdrawing, only to slam back to the hilt.  She tried to scream, but her mouth was once again taken, her sounds swallowed. </p><p>Marius.  What would Marius think?  Surely he’d flee her defilement.  And her father would recoil at such wickedness.  She’d have no one.  Cosette wept into Thenardier’s mouth.</p><p>Pain built higher and higher as Thenardier quickened his pace.  His fingers dug into her buttocks when he pulled her onto him.  Finally, he gave one last, brutal thrust, and then Cosette felt hot liquid filling her.  She wept harder.  Not even God would want her now.  Opening her eyes, she glimpsed the thing which had ruined her, now softening and foul with blood and other fluids.  Cosette’s stomach rebelled and she vomited onto the ground.</p><p>Immediately, the others released her, but all she could do was slump to the ground in a puddle of satin and continue to retch.</p><p>She didn’t know how long she spent expelling the contents of her stomach, but all too soon, a hand fastened itself in her hair.  The young one smiled down at her.</p><p>“Don’t think you’re finished yet, darling.”</p><p>He dragged her to his knees by her hair and turned her around, and more men closed in to lift her skirt and hold her in place.</p><p>“Please stop, please not again.”  But Cosette had no hope that her plea would be answered.</p><p>“Oh don’t worry, I want something else.”</p><p>Hands moved to her rear, pulling her hips apart.  She heard him spit and felt the fluid land between her cheeks.”</p><p>“This is what you deserve, little slut.  Taken like the bitch you are.”</p><p>It was both a blessing and a terror, not being able to see what was happening. Cosette felt what she knew to be his manhood push against her.  But instead of taking Thenardier’s place, it aimed higher.  In a panic, Cosette struggled to escape, but the hands holding her down were too strong.  The pain as he impaled her was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She begged and sobbed, words dissolving into unintelligible moans.  Still he forced her back passage open.  Her incoherent cries for mercy did nothing to save her.  It seemed to go on and on, until Cosette’s entire world was nothing but his thick, hard manhood rearranging her insides and the accompanying white-hot agony that wracked her entire body.  By the time he finished, she was barely sensible.</p><p>“Strip her for me, boys,” he commanded.  And Cosette’s skirts were shredded until they hung from her waist in tattered rags.</p><p>Pulling out of her, he wiped himself off against the small of her back and stood.  Cosette felt his foot prod her, and she rolled with it until she was on her back in the filthy alley.  The men pinned her wrists above her head.</p><p>“I’m next,” called someone, “and I want her last hole.”  The tall, thin man straddled her upper body, one hand stroking himself to hardness. “Open wide, girl.” </p><p>Cosette obeyed, even though the smell threatened to upend her stomach again.  Nothing could be worse than what she’d just endured.  The phallus stretched her lips wide as it inched toward her throat.  He held her head up and thrust against her face, uncaring when she choked and gagged.  Only whores did this, and Cosette knew her life was over.  She could only hope that they killed her when they were finished. Her father would view her with horror.</p><p>She gagged harder as her throat was breached.  Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.  The shaft filled her mouth and throat, moving with dizzying speed.  With his hands tight in her hair, she couldn’t struggle away. She pictured Marius’ face, twisted in disgust as he backed away from her, before finally turning on his heel and disappearing from her life.  The thought was unbearable. Cosette prayed that he would steal the breath from her and her suffering would end.  She knew it was wrong of her, but she couldn’t bear the thought of grappling with this shame. </p><p>But it was not to be. The man left her throat, and her body instinctively gulped for air.  As she did, hot, bitter liquid, thick and salty, flooded her mouth and spilled over her lips.  She sputtered and coughed, only to receive another spurt across her face and hair. </p><p>“Kill me, please just kill me,” she murmured through the foul substance.</p><p>Thenardier laughed.“Killing you won’t make me any money.”</p><p>In a flash, the young one was on his knees at her side, knife in hand. </p><p>“To help you remember your place, lower than any street whore.”</p><p>The knife point dug into the flesh above her right hip and began to slice.  Cosette screamed in renewed pain.  They held her down as she writhed, and one hulking monster grabbed her head.  She was forced to watch in terrified agony as her flesh was carved and her own blood stained her skin.  When she seemed to lose consciousness, they shook and slapped her to keep her awake. Finally, it was over. </p><p>“You belong to us, now.” And on her hip, throbbing and gleaming wet blood, the letters <em>P.M.</em> </p><p>More hands reached for her, spreading her legs and squeezing her breasts.  Cosette closed her eyes, and submitted to her fate.</p>
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